


No Heroes Book I – The Roster

by PaulAsaran



Category: My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe, Dark, Gen, Original Character(s), Secret Organizations
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-05-16
Updated: 2013-05-16
Packaged: 2018-02-05 01:21:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 17,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1800247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PaulAsaran/pseuds/PaulAsaran
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A threat is forming in the underbelly of Equestria., a threat who's true nature remains disturbingly elusive to Equestria's Night Princess.  </p>
<p>With her millennium-old confidants long dead and gone, the newly-returned Princess Luna calls upon a dangerous but loyal ally to gather the ponies she needs from her sister's unfamiliar Equestria.  Together, they seek out the underdogs and the overshadowed, the second-place and the unappreciated, those who's virtues are not so readily visible in the light of day.  Ponies among whom she has much in common.</p>
<p>They are not like the Element Bearers.</p>
<p>They are no heroes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Merry Chase

* * *

Spike sighed for what had to have been the thousandth time as he plodded along on the treadmill. An older-looking, dark-brown Earth pony with a grey mane was nearby, muzzle stuck in a notebook in which he was writing furiously. Every now and then he checked the data that a computer was spitting out at an alarming rate.

“Isn’t that thing done yet?” the baby dragon whined, shifting the steel helmet with its blinking lights and wires. He used to call it the 'party hat' because it looked so ridiculous. Pinkie would have liked it. Twilight certainly did. He was glad she wasn’t here, she only made the whole process more annoying.

“Give it time,” Doc Murrow answered through the pencil in his mouth.

“I have. Three days time.”

“Oh, don’t exaggerate,” the doctor ordered, dropping the pencil and shifting some knobs. “You’ve only been running the treadmill for an hour.”

“Yeah, but I’ve been here three days,” Spike noted with a wave at the lab. “I should be back in Ponyville with Twilight! I have responsibilities, y'know.”

“You can’t go back to Ponyville until tomorrow, anyway,” Doc Murrow noted. “So just relax! We’re almost done.” He tapped a floor pedal and the treadmill at last stopped. Spike dropped into a sitting position with a relieved sigh and removed the helmet.

“According to Miss Sparkle’s notes,” the scientist went on while reading from the notebook, “your gem intake has gone up over twenty percent since last year.” He peered at Spike's belly.

“What?”

“Hmmm,” the Doctor grabbed a pencil and began scribbling. “You seem a bit chubby. I think I can chalk this down as overeating.”

“Hey! I eat just as much as my hunger demands!” Another lecturing glance. “Okay, so maybe I have the occasional late-night ruby, or slip some opals in my toast for breakfast. It’s no big deal. I mean, you don’t know anything about dragon anatomy. You can’t prove I’m wrong.”

The doctor turned to him with head high. “I am Equestria’s leading dragon expert!” He lowered his head. “But you’re right, I don’t know enough to be able to say that.”

“ _Hah_!”

Doc Murrow poked him in the stomach. “One doesn’t have to know dragon anatomy to be able to see that you, Spike, are overeating! Now,” he switched topics with characteristic swiftness, “when was the last time you used your fire?”

“Last Friday,” Spike replied in a tired tone. “Back when Twilight and the others had to deal with that sleeping dragon.”

“Such a shame I couldn’t get to see that!” Doc Murrow noted with genuine regret. He stepped on another pedal, and a large metal plate dropped from the ceiling. “You know the drill.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Spike got in front of the plate, took a deep breath and let loose some dragon’s fire. His stomach twisted into knots; a simple belch was one thing, but prolonged breathing always made him queasy. He watched the doctor from the corner of his eye as the plate grew red. The pony was observing a small monitor.

“Twenty-four seconds!” Doc Murrow declared happily when the dragon could no longer keep the flame going. “That’s a five second improvement from last year.”

“Really?” Spike felt a little proud.

“Yes, remarkable improvement! No change in temperature, but perhaps that’s normal. You really should be enjoying this more. Just think of how you’re advancing our knowledge on dragons! I mean after all you are the—”

“—the first dragon to integrate into pony society, I know,” Spike muttered, sitting in a nearby chair. He set his cheeks in his claws with a glower.

“Don’t you want to help us to know more about your people?”

“I know everything I need to know,” the dragon answered sourly, and began to count on his claws. “My name’s Spike, I’m a dragon, I eat gems, and I like my naps.” He displayed his open claw at the pony. “I only need one arm to count ‘em. And right now I’m running low on gems and naps!”

“Well Princess Celestia thinks these tests are important,” Doc Murrow lectured even as he began to write something in another notebook, “like it or not, we’re gonna do this every year.”

“I know, I know,” Spike muttered. “That doesn’t mean I have to like it.”

“Well I have good news for you then: we’re done!”

Spike raised his head. “Wait, we are? What happened to the lava test? And the wing check?”

“Not necessary,” Doc Murrow declared. “We know enough about your heat resistance, and I’m pretty sure you won’t be growing any wings this year, either. So yes, we’re done.”

“Oh, okay.” Spike dropped from the chair and stretched. “Thanks, Doc! Now I can finally visit Joe’s.” Doc Murrow raised an eyebrow. “What? The doughnuts are my reward for putting up with all this.”

The doctor shook his head with a smile. “Alright, alright, but try to control yourself this year. I’ll give Miss Sparkle instructions on your diet if I have to.”

That made Spike flinch. “No, no, that’s okay! I promise I’ll cut down on my snacking! Honest.”

“Good.” The pony started to turn away, but stopped. “Oh, you’re staying the night in the castle, aren’t you?”

“No choice.” Spike made his eager way to the door. “There’s a big storm scheduled in Ponyville today, so the train won’t be stopping there. I’ll just be staying in Twilight’s and my old place.”

“You should stop by the museum.”

“The Royal Canterlot Museum?” Spike paused to tilt his head at the pony. “I’ve got nothing against it, but why?”

“There’s a new exhibit in Archeology Hall,” the doctor answered with a grin. “You’ll find it interesting, trust me.”

* * *

A nice sunny afternoon in Canterlot! Spike didn’t think things could get better than this. Here he was, taking in the familiar sights, a bag full of doughnuts under his arm. What more did he need? Suddenly he didn’t mind having been stuck in Doc Murrow’s lab for three days.

Spike found that he missed Canterlot. He’d been raised here, after all. In a way, he was sad Twilight hadn’t come. He knew she enjoyed coming home every now and again. He had been sure to visit her family to say hello, but it would have been better if she’d been along.

He wound his way through the busy streets, greeting to a few old friends as he ran into them. He was in no hurry to get home, as he was far more interested in the city. Eventually he found himself in the Art District; not a large area, but always interesting. He was just starting to lament the last bite of doughnut when he realized he was near the Royal Canterlot Museum.

There was still some time in the day left, why not see what Doc Murrow had been talking about?

He climbed up the marble steps, which were just a bit too tall for him. When he entered the main hall, with its vaulted ceiling and pillars and finery, he felt as if the whole place was a bit too fancy. Maybe he was just getting used to Ponyville living…

“Whoa!” Spike paused to stare at the giant poster hanging behind the front desk. On it was a collection of pictures involving dragons, with a giant egg right in the middle. The Archeology Hall had opened a dragon-themed wing! Doc Murrow was right; _this_ he wanted to see.

Spike made his way through the many halls, past the Pegasi Wing (he had to show it to Rainbow someday), beyond the Discord Era displays (always good for a laugh), and quickly through some dusty exhibits regarding an old kook named Starswirl the something or other…then realized he was lost.

Why did this place seem to get bigger every time he came here with Twilight? _She_ never got lost.

There was nothing else for it but to ask directions. He glanced about the displays and showpieces and soon spotted a well-dressed unicorn walking nearby. He hesitated; the yellow mare was dressed quite formally, and judging by her overall look he imagined she was of the snobby, elite variety. The kind of pony Rarity would love to hang out with. But there was nopony else that he could see, so he made his way after her.

“Excuse me,” he called out, but the pony seemed engrossed in some documents she had levitating before her face. He tried again, to no avail. Finally he reached out and tapped her on the shoulder.

“Yaaah!” The mare leapt, her notes and papers fluttering about wildly.

“I’m sorry!” Spike cried, about as surprised at her reaction as she had been.

The mare gave him a stunned look, brushing her white and purple mane back into place. “Oh, that’s quite alright. Off in my own world, as it were.”

“I didn’t mean to surprise you,” Spike replied, gathering up her papers from the floor. “I was just trying to get directions, you know?” He paused when he realized the mare was studying him. “What?”

“Why, you must be Spike!” she declared.

The baby dragon beamed. “Why, yes. Yes I am! Glad to see my reputation precedes me.” He offered her the papers. “Yeeap, I’m something of a legend.”

The mare raised a wry eyebrow. “Actually, it’s because you’re a dragon, and there’s only one dragon I’ve ever heard of living among ponies.”

Spike blushed as the papers rose from his claw in a green glow. “Oh, eh, right, or that.”

“I had heard that you’d moved to—” she shuddered, “—Ponyville. Why, if you’re here that must mean you came to see our new dragon exhibit!”

“Well, I’m really in town for my _yearly analysis_ ,” he raised his claws to make quotations as he added dryly, “'for the advancement of pony knowledge on dragon anatomy.' But,” he went on at her disappointed look, “Doc Murrow mentioned your exhibit, so I thought I’d come by and take a look! I just…umm…can’t find it.”

The mare grinned. “You’re in luck, Mr. Spike! I was just heading that way, so you can follow me along. I’m Upper Crust, one of the museum’s Assistant Acquirers, and I’d be happy to show you the exhibit. I collected a few of the items there myself, you know.”

“Including the egg?” Spike asked as they walked down the hallway.

“Ermm, no,” she confessed. “Mr. Nack purchased that one. To be honest, I think they gouged him for it.”

“Mr. Nack?”

“Yes, Nick Nack, the museum’s Chief Aquirer.” She added without much enthusiasm, “My boss.”

“Ah, I see. Well, thanks for the help Miss…Crust? Miss Upper?”

“Oh, no, no,” the unicorn shook her head with a disgusted frown. “I’m all about titles, Mr. Spike, but I think everyone agrees that neither ‘Miss Crust’ nor ‘Miss Upper’ sound very…dignified. You can call me ‘Assistant Acquirer Upper Crust.’ Or ‘A.A. Upper Crust’ or—” her voice took on a hint of dismay, “—just ‘Upper Crust,’ if you really must.”

Yeah, this was clearly a mare of the elite variety. Spike decided to play things cool; he’d been around Canterlot ponies long enough to know how to behave. As they rounded the corner, he caught a glance at Upper Crust’s cutie mark. It was a cracked, old-looking goblet with some strange lines beneath and beside it. He stared at the lines, not sure what they were.

“I hope you don’t mind my asking, but what are those lines on your cutie mark?”

She blinked, having again fallen into her own thoughts. “Hmmm? Oh, those are dimension lines, like in drafting.”

“Dimension lines?”

“Yes, they are used to show measurements.”

He scratched his head, giving the cutie mark another long look. “So your special talent is measuring things?”

Upper Crust sighed with a frown. “ _Everypony_ assumes that! No, Mr. Spike. My talent is estimation.”

“Estimation?” He moved forward a bit, bringing himself even with her front hooves, the better to make conversation. “You mean guessing?”

Upper Crust raised her head in a proud manner. “'Guessing’ is for layponies, Mr. Spike. I _estimate_. I make precise determinations using careful observations. It’s what made me an acquirer.”

Spike wasn’t sure he understood the difference. Rather, he didn’t think there was one and she was just being snippy. Not that it affected him; he’d been around Twilight long enough to let such things roll off his scales like water. “Ummm, example?”

She glanced at him with one eye, her gaze roaming up and down his body for about a second. “You have approximately seven-hundred-fifty scales.”

The dragon paused midstep, gaping. “Wha…? That’s really close! How did you know that?”

“It’s a simple thing, really,” she answered, head held high. “I took your leg-claw measurements by comparing them to the floor tiles, which are a specific length, then used the dimensions of your claw in accordance with the number of scales on one claw to determine approximate scale size. Account for your estimated height and the change in scale-size throughout your anatomy and a general estimate could be arranged. Of course, I also had to adjust for your underscales, which are of a different make, and I did not account for the spikes along your back.”

“Whoa.” She was halfway down the hall before he remembered to move his legs. “That’s amazing. You’re really good!”

“Well I had to be good at _something_ ,” she noted proudly, “or else I couldn’t call myself an Important Pony. Ah, we’re here.”

The Dragon Wing wasn’t the largest in the museum, but that didn’t keep Spike from being amazed: bones, fossils, scales, all sorts of things were on display! The biggest of all was the life-size bust of a brown-scaled dragon looming down from the ceiling, glaring with harsh realism and razor-sharp fangs. The sight actually made him nervous; it was that realistic!

“By Celestia,” he whispered, ducking behind Upper Crust. “That’s one well-made replica.”

Upper Crust frowned at the thing. “It’s tacky. It was made by one of Canterlot’s best artisans using testimony from ponies who had actually seen dragons up close, and with a bit of help from your Doc Murrow for anatomical accuracy. Still,” she added, “tacky.”

Now that she’d confirmed that thing indeed wasn’t real, Spike abandoned his hiding spot to get a closer look at the displays. The first held a trio of dragon scales, one of which was as large as he was. “Wow.” He twisted about to look at the scales on his back. “Am I gonna have scales that big, someday?”

“I wouldn’t know,” Upper Crust admitted with only a half-interest, already making her way along the displays with her forms in front of her muzzle. “I’m no expert.”

“Oh,” he waved to her, “thanks for showing me how to get here!”

“Hmm? Oh, yes, my pleasure."

Spike wandered the wing with no small amount of awe. There was a broken half of a bone – a femur, according to the plaque – that he could have crawled into had it been hollow. There was a wall with five paintings, each showing the same two dragons in different stages of a fight. The plaque claimed the images were made by a particularly daring pony who hid nearby to watch the duel. Everything was interesting, especially to a guy who wondered how he might look when he grew to be a full-sized dragon.

But what really caught his eye was the egg. It stood in a display case near the center of the wing, encased in glass. It was tall – taller than Spike himself – and of a soft brown color, which only made sense considering it was just a fossil. The plaque beneath it noted that the egg was over a thousand years old, and its size was due to its origins from the Eastern Pony Nations, where dragons grew long and snake-like and thus needed more room in the egg.

A distant cousin? Spike stared in rapt amazement, wondering how large his own egg had been. There was so much he didn’t know about dragons. It didn’t particularly bother him, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t interested in learning when the opportunity presented itself.

It took him several seconds to realize that he was no longer alone. There, opposite the display, was a tall, lanky unicorn. Spike leaned about to get a curious look at him; he was a mottled brown and had a black mane. He was wearing a black, semi-formal vest and seemed to be deeply intent upon whatever he was looking at, which Spike realized was not the egg.

He stepped about the display case to try and follow the pony’s line of sight, and after a moment saw that he was looking right at Upper Crust. She stood near the paintings as she wrote on one of her forms, oblivious.

Spike glanced at the stallion, then at Upper Crust, then at him again. Finally, in a moment of inquisitiveness, he checked the stallion’s cutie mark…and stared. He didn’t have one.

“Look more closely.”

Spike jumped, not realizing he’d been noticed. He looked up at the stallion, who just kept staring at Upper Crust. Spike looked at the unicorn’s flank again, this time with greater focus. It took him nearly a minute, but at last he realized what he was seeing: the stallion’s cutie mark was a reared-back pony that was camouflaged in such a way that it blended in with the stallion’s mixed colors. It was practically invisible.

“Hey, that’s a neat one! So you…?”

“Hide.” The stallion grinned at him. “I hide.” And he went back to staring at Upper Crust.

Okay, that was started to get a little creepy. “Umm…is there something interesting over there?”

“Not at all,” the stallion replied. “At least, nothing that a tamed dragon would be interested in.”

“Hey! I’m not tamed! Go on, tell me what’s so interesting.” Spike turned to peer at Upper Crust, determined to know what the stallion was so intent upon.

For a moment he thought the stallion wouldn’t answer. When he did speak, his voice was slow, low and dark. “I see something red. And viscous. And blooming. Quite pleasurable. Quite appealing. A temptation, gnawing at me from the dark recesses of a mind long accustomed to…that kind of thing.” Spike blinked and gave the stallion a confused look. There was a wicked, hungry glint in those eyes that made him uncomfortable. “I’m Fine Crime, by the way.”

“Uuuh, Spike.” Fine Crime? What kind of name was that? It was as if this pony was _asking_ to get blamed for something. What had his parents been thinking? He thought of Fine's words and asked, “Sooo, Upper Crust is…a red flower?” A second's pause. “An evil red flower?”

The stallion chuckled. “Quite the fascinating conclusion my little friend! Evil red flower. How cute.”

“Hey, it’s your imagery,” the dragon noted with a frown. “Aren’t you here to look at the dragon displays?”

Fine sagged and let out an intense sigh. For a second he seemed to be in pain, but he recovered quickly and offered Spike a strained smile. “No, I’m only here for one thing: this.” He looked up at the egg before them. “Marvelous, isn’t it? I would very much like to add a dragon egg to my collection.”

“It _is_ something,” Spike agreed, glad that the conversation had taken a turn for normalcy. “But I don’t think they’d be willing to part with it so soon after getting it.”

“Oh, I can be _very_ convincing,” Fine noted, trotting about the egg with a grin. “Many ponies have found my insistence to be inescapable.”

“Riiiight.” There was something very strange about this unicorn. His manner of speaking, the way he moved about, his shifting behavior. It was all a bit different somehow. Spike wasn’t sure he liked any of it. He was at a loss for what to say next, so he let the first thing that came to mind slip out. “So what exactly does a pony whose special gift is hiding do for a living?”

“I’m a dragon slayer.”

“What?!”

The unicorn tilted sideways so his head came around the display. “Kidding. I’m a florist.”

Spike let his heartbeat slow to normal levels and hoped he didn’t look as disturbed as he felt. “Oh, right, of course. Haha, good one…” What did hiding have to do with being a florist? “Well, I’ve seen enough. Gotta go.”

In truth Spike could have spent much more time in the wing, but he abruptly didn’t want to be anywhere near that stallion. He began to leave, but then paused to glance at Upper Crust. She had moved to another display, a stone sculpture of a dragon’s claw. Fine Crime had been watching her quite intently. Was it really safe to leave her alone with him?

The little dragon considered this for a few seconds, then decided to take the cautious route; he headed for Upper Crust. Best to at least warn her.

“Umm…Upper Crust?”

The mare gave him a reproachful look. “Yes, Mr. Spike?”

“I just thought you might like to know…” he started, turning to glance at Fine Crime, then let out a surprised shout. “The egg!”

It was gone.

Upper Crust let out a sound somewhere between a squeak and a scream, darting to the seemingly untouched display case. “The egg! What happened, where did it go!? That thing was the centerpiece of the entire collection!”

“I… I don’t know,” Spike admitted at her side. “It was there just a second ago. I didn’t do anything, I swear!”

Upper Crust was running circles around the case. “Sweet Celestia, this is bad! If Nick Nack finds out the egg was lost on my watch, my career is over! It can’t be over, I only just hired on three months ago!”

Something clicked in Spike’s mind. “Wait, where’s Fine Crime?” He turned a three-sixty, scouring the area for any sign of the strange unicorn. To his surprise, he actually saw him – or rather, the back half of him – slipping through a doorway at the end of the hall. “There, I bet he took it!”

He got a few steps before being thrust upwards and onto Upper Crust’s back. She galloped through the hall, her hooves clacking noisily on the tiled floor. “We have to get that egg back,” she declared in a voice more panicked than anything. “My entire career depends on it!”

The door glowed green and opened on its own, and the two were in a back room full of cabinets and display cases. There was only one way to go, so they gave chase, but when they reached a connection they had to pause and get their bearings.

“Oh, which way did he go?” Upper Crust asked hooves dancing.

“I don’t know…” Spike replied, then noted a door swinging to their right. “That way, it’s our best bet!”

The chase was on. Upper Crust barreled after their target with everything she had. More than once Spike thought she might crash into one of the priceless items in the museum, but somehow she always managed to avoid them. He kept thinking they’d lose the culprit, too, yet every time it seemed they’d lost him some clue would present itself.

Something about the entire chase seemed odd. Spike felt almost as if they were being led along by a pony who didn’t want to get away. Suddenly he really wished Rainbow was here. She’d have caught the culprit in no time! Then again, she might also have destroyed half the artifacts doing it.

Their chase took them out a back door and into the streets of Canterlot! In the dying light of dusk they finally caught sight of their criminal, darting into a back alley with a taunting grin.

“Eggnaper!” Upper Crust cried, warranting curious looks from nearby ponies as she resumed the chase.

“Give us back that egg, you thief!” Spike added, caught up in the excitement.

Upper Crust galloped for all she was worth, but it seemed as if they would never catch Fine Crime. “Geez, doesn’t this guy ever get tired?” Spike asked as they went farther out from the city’s center.

“I don’t…know…” Upper Crust wheezed, “but I certainly…do!”

They came out of an alley and had to pause to locate their quarry. They were high up now; ahead was the Canterlot Sky-Port, where numerous airships of all shapes and sizes were docked. For a moment it seemed as if the egg thief had escaped at last.

“There he is!” Upper Crust cried just as Spike spotted Fine Crime jumping aboard the back of a yacht.

“Oh no, it’s launching!” Spike cried as the airship floated from the dock.

“He’s not getting away!” Upper Crust declared, rearing back to charge.

“Whoa, whoa!” Spike shouted, gripping her mane for support. “Do you realize how high up we are?!”

But Upper Crust ignored him, moving as fast as her hooves could carry her. The yacht was slipping farther and farther out, and Spike thought that there was no way they’d make it across the gap. He covered his eyes and wished desperately that Twilight was there.

They went airborne.

There was a moment of hideous silence…

And the two of them landed hard on the back of the yacht.

Upper Crust had put everything she’d had into that jump, and hadn’t been prepared for the landing. She collapsed face-first onto the wooden deck, sending Spike flying into the cabin wall so hard his backside spikes stabbed into the wood. He hung there – upside down and dazed – for several seconds before realizing he was alive.

He tried to pry himself loose from the wall, but couldn't. He sighed and noted Upper Crust, who came up reeling and eyes swirling. “You okay?”

“Y-yeah,” she answered. “Just a bit winded.”

“Good.” He waved his arms at her. “Are you nuts!? You could have killed us both with a stunt like that!”

Upper Crust finally managed to stand properly. “I couldn’t just let him get away!”

Spike crossed his arms and snorted. “He jumped on an air-yacht. You could have, I dunno, called the authorities and waited for it to dock?”

“Oh.” She glanced with a blush off the back of the deck, “Right. I suppose that _would_ have been safer.”

“Uh, yeah.” He waved his claws at her. “Help me down!”

She raised a reproachful eyebrow at him, but let him grab her horn. “Well excuse me, but I do have my priorities! My status as an Important Pony resides in that egg, and I cannot let it be taken on my watch.”

“I don’t think being an Important Pony takes priority over our lives,” Spike noted, straining to keep hold of her horn as she tugged.

“I wouldn’t expect a baby dragon living in a dump like Ponyville to understand,” she argued through grinding teeth.

“A dump? That’s my home you’re talking about!”

Just then his spikes broke free, and the two of them crumbled in a heap on the deck.

“Important Ponies don’t come from backwater places like Ponyville,” Upper Crust declared as she untangled him from her hooves with a kick, “and Important Ponies don’t lose priceless relics! I simply must get it back, preferably before anypony notices it is missing.”

Spike sat up as she began to make her way around the cabin. “Yeah? And what makes you such an Important Pony?”

She turned back to him, head held high. “I am an elite pony from Canterlot, born of a wealthy family and working in the prestigious Canterlot Royal Museum! I take great pride in being an Important Pony!”

“And would this Important Pony care to explain how she got on my air-yacht?”

Upper Crust’s eyes bulged and her face went pale. She spun about in a flash to face the large, white, monocle-wearing unicorn that had appeared behind her. “O-o-oh my goodness,” she squeaked, “F-Fancy Pants! The one and only! I am so sorry, I didn’t mean to, I j-just—!”

Spike stood and walked over, brushing himself off. “Fancy Pants? Who’re you?”

Upper Crust rounded on him so quickly he fell onto his back. “What do you mean ‘who’re you?!’ He’s Fancy Pants, only the most prestigious, important, special—”

“Okay, okay, I get it, geez!”

She jerked back around to the tall unicorn, who was watching their interaction with an expression combining amusement and aloofness. “I am so sorry sir _we_ are so sorry it’s just that we were chasing after a criminal who stole something very important from the Royal Canterlot Museum and we saw him jump on board your yacht so we did too and and and…”

She finally ran out of breath, standing before Fancy Pants and heaving as if she’d just ran a marathon.

“Uh,” Spike added, standing back up, “did you get all that?”

Fancy smiled pleasantly. “Why yes, indeed I did. This fellow must have given you quite the chase! I can only surmise the relic he stole must have been very important, yes?”

Spike nodded with a relaxed grin; well, this ‘Important Pony’ didn’t seem anywhere near as uppity as Upper Crust. “Upper Crust here insists her career will be ruined if we don’t get it back, so we’ve been chasing him all the way from the museum.”

“Yes,” she added, finally regaining enough wind to start talking again. “Please… you must… let us… find him!”

“Oh, that won’t be necessary,” Fancy declared with a proud smile. “Turns out hopping aboard my vessel was a mistake; my ever-dependable crew caught him almost immediately.”

“ _Really_?” Upper Crust lit up. “Did he have a dragon egg with him?”

Fancy’s monocle raised from his eye as he asked, “Dragon egg? Is that what he stole? I’m afraid I didn’t see anything quite so large on him when my lads took him.”

Upper Crust was crestfallen. Spike rushed to add, “Don’t worry, he probably stashed it during the chase. We’ll just talk to him, make him tell us where it is.”

She recovered some of her composure. “Yes…yes, you’re right.” She gave Fancy Pants a hopeful look, head low. “With your permission, of course.”

“Of course,” he agreed. “Can’t have ruffians like that getting away with the goods, now can we? Come along, Miss…?”

“Upper Crust!” The mare blushed at her own enthusiasm and lowered her head again. “I mean, I’m Upper Crust, and this is Spike the Dragon. Thank you so much for your help.”

“Not at all.” Fancy Pants turned and led them around to the front of the great cabin, where a number of very elite-looking ponies were mulling about self-importantly. “Always a pleasure to help a pony in need. And a pleasure to meet both of you; a pony from the Royal Canterlot Museum and Equestria’s own social dragon. Why I’m not sure I could ask for finer stowaways.” That last line made Upper Crust blush noticeably.

“We didn’t mean to intrude or anything,” Spike noted helpfully as the unicorn led them into the cabin and down some stairs. “I mean, if you want to turn the yacht around and drop us off—”

“Nonsense, I’ll hear nothing of it,” Fancy declared. “I was just warming the old girl up, thought I’d have dinner among the stars. You’re both more than welcome to join me and my other guests for the evening.” A strange, excited sound trembled out of Upper Crust’s throat at that offer.

“Alright!” Spike cried, “This is going to be so much better than what I'd have been doing at the castle.”

Fancy paused before a closed door, keys floating out of the pocket of his coat, and cast an impressed glance at the dragon. “You’re staying at the castle, Sir Spike?”

Upper Crust shot Spike a withering glower that was barely noticed.

“Well, I’m living in Ponyville now,” he confessed, “but Twilight and me, we used to live in the castle. Our old rooms are still open to us for whenever we come to visit, so yeah, tonight I’m staying there.”

“How divine!” Fancy beamed as a key went into the door’s lock. “I daresay you’re going to make a most splendid party guest.” Another glare from Upper Crust as the door opened. “Come on in, meet my vessel’s first-ever captive.”

The three entered the room, Fancy closing the door behind them. It was a large place, luxuriously fitted as what Spike assumed was meant to be a parlor. And there, lounging in a cushy-looking couch by the windows, was Fine Crime.

“My compliments, sir,” the egg thief said with a grin. “You treat your prisoners better than most. I can think of a few friends who would be quite envious of me right now.”

“You!” Spike jumped atop a coffee table and pointed. “What did ya do with the egg, ya thief?”

“Egg?” Fine asked with a perplexed look. “What egg?”

“The dragon egg that you stole,” Upper Crust snapped. “We saw you take it!”

“Oh, you mean the dragon’s egg in the museum,” he noted with a smile. “Now really, Assistant Acquirer, you can’t really say that you saw me steal anything, can you?”

The mare’s jaw went slack.

“Don’t pull that on us,” Spike snapped. “Nopony else could have possibly taken it! What did you do with it?”

Fine leaned forward, his voice pleasant. “Maybe I dropped it when I jumped on board the yacht.” Upper Crust whimpered. “Or perhaps I gave it to my accomplices. Or – just maybe – I didn’t do anything with it. Why don’t you go on back to your precious little museum and take a good look; perhaps you just _thought_ it was missing!”

Upper Crust sneered. “Don’t play games with us!”

“Or it could be that the egg just rolled out of its display case and under some table. Perhaps after a thousand years the baby finally decided to stretch his wings. Better late than never, you know.”

Fancy sniffed in a displeased fashion. “You, sir, seem to have a talent for misdirection. Why toy with them in such a manner?”

Fine gave him a wide-eyed look. “But I’m not toying with anypony. I have no idea what they’re talking about.”

“Then why were you running away from us, huh?” Spike demanded.

“Oh _really_ , Spike, such a lack of imagination. Perhaps I wasn’t running away so much as running in the same direction. Coincidences do happen.”

“And pray tell why you happened to jump aboard my air-yacht?” Fancy threw in.

Fine grinned mischievously. “Can you think of a better way to spend an evening in luxury?” A moment of stunned silence. “But really, Mr. Pants, if somepony clearly threatening is chasing after you and you want to escape, why not jump aboard a yacht about to leave port? When one feels endangered, he’ll take certain risks.”

“What?!” Spike and Upper Crust cried in unison.

The elite stallion wiped his monocle in a self-important fashion. “I prefer Fancy, if you please.”

Upper Crust turned away, distraught. “We’ll never get the egg back from him at this rate. My reputation as an Important Pony will be ruined!”

At those words Fine's eyes went dark, and he abruptly lost his lazy manner. “And what in Luna’s name makes _you_ so important?”

“I wouldn’t expect a lowly egg thief to understand!”

Spike frowned and gestured towards her. “Just like she wouldn’t expect a Ponyville dragon to understand.”

“What have you done with your life that makes you special?” Fine pressed, his pleasant tone gone entirely.

Upper Crust turned on him. “I am an elite pony, raised in style! I work at the Royal Canterlot Museum! I—”

“You’re an _Assistant Acquirer_. That’s not exactly high on the totem pole, princess.” Fine's tone was surprisingly harsh. “And born into wealth? So was I, but you don’t think I warrant a passing glance, do you?”

She reared back, eyes flaring. “You?! You’re a thief!”

“And what have you done with your life?” he demanded. “Made _estimations_? Name one pony you’ve helped, one great task that ponies throughout Equestria know you for.”

That made her pause. “I…what…? That doesn’t have any relevance—”

“You know that it does!”

Spike and Fancy Pants gave one another surprised looks; this conversation had taken a drastic turn.

“Waitaminute,” the dragon interrupted, “we’re not here to argue about importance! We’re here because you stole a dragon egg!”

“Quite right,” Fancy agreed, “you are trying to confuse us all with a change in topic, and we won’t—”

“Look at him!” Fine directed a hoof at the noblepony. “He gives to charities, funds events that bring joy to thousands of ponies. He's a veteran of the Dragon Campaign! Fancy Pants earned his status.”

The hoof was directed to Spike. “Look at this guy. He’s not considered ‘Important,’ but he’s the first dragon to live in peace with ponies. And he’s the personal assistant of Princess Celestia’s hoof-picked pupil, who will no doubt do great things in the near future. He works with the current bearers of the Elements of Harmony, one of the most powerful magics known to Ponydom! Why isn’t _he_ considered important?”

“And you?” His attention went back to Upper Crust, who was now sitting on her haunches and gaping. “What have _you_ done? Daddy sent you to a posh private school? Learned to make a calculation or two in your head? You’re _nothing_!”

There was a moment of stark silence, Fine’s words seeming to echo in everypony’s minds.

Upper Crust stared in shock, then embarrassment, then dropped her head in shame. Spike wanted to say something in her defense, but at the moment words were lost.

So Fancy Pants spoke instead. “I’m turning this yacht back to the docks,” he declared. “I do not wish to have this insulting ruffian onboard my vessel for another moment.” He promptly left the room.

“I…” Upper Crust muttered, on the verge of tears. “I…”

Fine stared at her coldly for several long seconds, but then leaned forward to look her in the eyes. “Why did you chase me?”

She blinked, seeming to not understand the query. Spike scratched his scaled head and gave her a puzzled look of his own. What kind of question was that?

But Upper Crust's expression became hard. She raised her head proudly, looking down on the fugitive with judging eyes. “Because you stole something. It was wrong, and somepony had to stop you.”

Fine Crime raised himself up as well, his expression calm. His harsh eyes shifted as he scrutinized her. Another long pause seeped through the room before he finally nodded. “I see.”

That’s when the yacht rocked. It wasn’t a small motion, either; it sent Spike and Upper Crust to the floor, and Fine Crime back against the couch.

“What the heck was that?!” Spike asked, crawling out from under the coffee table.

Fine Crime didn't bother to get up. “That would be the small tear I cut in the yacht’s balloon ripping open and releasing lots and lots of helium.”

“What?!” Upper Crust managed to get to her hooves. “Why in Celestia’s name would you do something like _that_?”

He waved a dismissive hoof. “It’s called a distraction. You know, create a little chaos and slip off?”

“Distraction?” Spike repeated. “How do you intend to escape when you’re on an air-yacht that’s falling out of the sky?”

Upper Crust rushed to a window, eyes wide. “Oh no, oh no, oh no, what are we going to do?! We must be over 15,000 feet up, we’ll never survive the impact!”

“Oh, calm down,” Fine instructed. “The Pegasi Wing of the Equestrian Guard will notice and come rescue everyone. You know, the one always stationed in Canterlot? And I’m sure a super Important Pony like Fancy Pants can afford a new yacht. Your husband can sell him one; that’s his business, isn’t it?”

“You moron!” Spike shouted, jumping onto the unicorn’s stomach and glaring at him. “The entire Pegasi Wing is out on training maneuvers!”

“They are?” Upper Crust asked in a weak voice.

Fine leaned up and gave Spike a wide-eyed look. “How do you know that?”

Spike waived his claws in the air. “Because I spoke to the Captain of the Guard yesterday, and he told me so!”

A moment’s pause as the two unicorns stared at him, and then an “oh” came from Fine Crime. “That would have been good to know ten minutes ago.”

Spike jumped from Fine’s belly and ran to the door.

“Where are you going?” Upper Crust demanded in a panicky voice.

“Up top to see if I can help!”

She tried to say something else, but he didn’t hear it. As he ran to the stairs the entire airship tilted backward, and he had to use his claws on the laminated flooring to keep from sliding. This was great, just great! He knew he should have found some excuse to skip his annual tests! Now he was going to die on some fancy yacht because of a klepto and a posh pony. As he finally managed to get onto the deck, he couldn’t help wishing Twilight was there.

The elite ponies were holding on for dear life to anything nailed down. Spike called out for Fancy Pants, but couldn’t hear over the intense wind that was raging around them. He finally spotted the unicorn at the helm, struggling with the wheel. It took a lot of effort to get up to him.

“Fancy!” he called as he at last got close enough to be heard over the wind. “What do we do? Can’t we slow it down?”

Sweating from exertion, Fancy Pants chanced a glance at Spike, then gestured with his head toward the balloon above them. “Not unless we can do something about that, I’m afraid!”

Spike at last saw the rip in the balloon. It didn’t seem all that large, but it was clearly losing a lot of gas. Spike could only stare, mind beginning to panic. There had to be something they could do, but what? How? He wasn’t good at solving these kinds of problems! He needed his friends; any of them would be better than him.

“What in Luna’s name are you ponies doing?” Spike glanced down to see Fine Crime and Upper Crust at the cabin door, holding on for dear life. The voice had been Fine's. “All these Important Ponies, and nopony’s going to do anything?”

“I don’t see you coming up with anything!” Upper Crust shouted. “Don’t forget that this is all your fault, you thief!”

“Use your resources,” Fine shot back, daring to step out onto the deck. “Your lives are at stake, so act!”

“But we can’t,” Spike cried down to him in terror.

“Get back before you fall off,” Fancy ordered.

“There’s nothing we can do,” Upper Crust shouted with wide eyes.

“And you call yourself an Important Pony,” the egg thief snapped, turning back to her, “can’t even learn to help yourself. Spike, I’m gonna need fire. Upper Crust, I need wind control!”

“What?!” Upper Crust stared at him. “What are you talking about? I can’t control this kind of wind!”

Fine Crime was halfway up the stairs to the helm. “You learned a wind spell to cheat against your cousin flying kites, right? Use it!”

“Wha…? How did you—?”

“No time!” Fine was crouched low next to Spike. “Get on! I’ll lift you up. I need you to breathe fire on top of the cabin. I can get it to stay, but you have to keep the flame going for at least thirty seconds.”

“Thirty seconds!?” Spike shook his head. “N-no, I can’t! My best time’s only twenty four seconds. You’re talking an extra six seconds I can’t do!”

Fine glared. “It’s up to you, dragon! A lot of ponies are going to get crushed in the next few minutes if you can’t do this.”

“But… But I…”

The unicorn rose to stare down with authority, and suddenly he seemed a lot bigger than Spike recalled. “There is nopony else. Twilight Sparkle is not here, or Rarity, or Rainbow Dash. This is your moment to be the hero, Spike. Take it!”

A hero? Spike never thought of himself as a hero, at least not a real one. But something the pony had said stuck with him: it really was just him, wasn’t it? He glanced around at the elite ponies. Some were screaming, others were crying. All were terrified as the ground came up faster and faster. Seeing all of them, Spike knew that only he could do what needed to be done.

“Let’s do this,” he declared, climbing atop Fine as fast as his claws would allow.

“Upper Crust,” Fine demanded through the raging winds, “I need you to protect the flame! When I’ve got it secured, direct the heat into the tear of the balloon!”

She raised her head against the wind to ask, “What good will that do?”

“Replace the lost helium with hot air,” he explained quickly, “and keep what’s left inside! We need to give Fancy Pants enough lift to land this thing safely.”

“But I haven’t cast that spell in years, there’s no way I can do that much!”

“Then we’ll die.”

“I hate to interrupt,” Fancy Pants shouted, “but the ground’s getting a bit close! If you’re going to try it, I’d suggest doing so immediately!”

Spike was holding on to Fine’s mane as he turned and rose up on his hind legs, leaning against the cabin that was angling backwards even more, just like the entire yacht. “Do your thing, Spike!”

The baby dragon climbed atop the unicorn’s head and stood, gripping the edge of the cabin’s roof for balance. It was hard to stay in place, but finally he felt secure enough to take in a long, deep breath. Green flame flew from his mouth and to the cabin’s roof, crackling and sparking against the fierce winds.

For a moment, nothing seemed to be happening. Then a crimson glow appeared beneath the flame. Spike kept the heat coming even as he realized that Fine was using magic on the fire, trying to lock it to the cabin. But the wind was still pummeling them, and Spike could see that this wasn’t going to work.

“Upper Crust!” It was Fine Crime. “Upper Crust, now!”

“I _can’t_ ,” she cried from somewhere below. “I’m not good enough! I’m not—”

“Forget about the doubts!” The was no fear or worry in Fine’s tone. Only determination. “Stop worrying about what you can’t do, focus on what you can do! Hiding behind the glamor and posh won’t make a difference. If you want to be an Important Pony, do something to prove you deserve it!”

Spike’s throat was getting sore. Come on, just do it already! He was approaching his limit…

The wind eased. Slowly but clearly, a green glow began to appear around the cabin, an invisible barrier to block the winds. The fire grew, erupted, spread! Spike held on, the flames from his throat growing hotter and hotter. His stomach churned, and was getting worse with each passing second. Finally, he could hold it no more; he coughed, choked, and sucked in air. With watering eyes he watched Fine’s spell work, and soon the flame was dancing atop the cabin like a bonfire.

“Upper Crust, the fire’s in place! Guide the heat!”

The green glow closed in tightly about the flame, then rose up like a tube to the large tear in the balloon above. The flames licked at the edges of the magical barrier. The crimson glow beneath the fire intensified, and so too did the heat.

It was several seconds before Spike could be sure, but at last he felt the wind lessening.

“By Luna, it’s actually working!” Fancy Pants cried. “Keep it up! Give me a little more lift, and I think I can land us in the Canterlot Gardens.”

Sick to his stomach, Spike dropped down to Fine Crime’s back, noting the red glow around his horn. Rubbing his belly tenderly and praying the yacht’s rocking would stop soon before he made a mess, the dragon turned to look forward. True to Fancy’s word, they were coming down towards the gardens. He could just make out the fleeing animals, and his heart pounded in his chest at their speed. “I think you mean _crash_ us into the gardens!”

“Yes,” Fancy admitted with a touch of worry, “that _would_ be more accurate.”

Ignoring the churning in his stomach, Spike jumped to his feet. “Come on you guys, just a little longer! We’ve almost made it!”

“Everypony brace for impact!”

The crash was thunderous, the yacht’s bow smashing into the soft grass of the Gardens, and Spike went flying through the air. He closed his eyes and let out a shout of horror even as he silently cursed himself for not grabbing something when he’d had the chance. A lot of movement, a lot of chaos, a lot of noise, and then silence. And pain.

Spike opened his eyes and found himself hanging by his stomach on a tree limb. He had to fight to keep from losing the doughnuts from earlier.

“Oooh man,” he muttered, climbing into a sitting position, “I don’t think I wanna fly again anytime soon.”

He took a moment to calm his nerves, then looked around. He spotted the yacht half-buried in dirt not far off. “Guys!” He climbed down as quick as he could and ran. “Upper Crust! Fancy Pants! Is everypony okay?”

He found Upper Crust half-buried in dirt near the bow of the boat, surrounded by a number of other ponies who looked about as bad. She shook her head and let out a groan. “I feel fine, all things considered,” she muttered. Spike took her front hooves in his claws and pulled her out of the soil.

Fancy Pants was still at the boat’s wheel, having clung to it during the impact. He pulled himself away with an uncomfortable look and mane akimbo. “Not one of my finest landings, I’ll admit, but I can still mark this as one of my more interesting voyages.”

“Nopony seems too seriously hurt,” Spike ventured as he helped another mare up.

“For that we can all be grateful,” Fancy agreed. “And we owe it all to you. Sir Spike, Miss Upper Crust, you have my most sincere thanks!”

Spike couldn’t help beaming, though he cast a glance at the crash. “Umm, sorry about your yacht.”

But the big unicorn waved a dismissive hoof. “Oh, it’s nothing. What’s one yacht compared to the lives of all these ponies you saved?”

Upper Crust finally broke into a smile. “We…we did do it, didn’t we? I can’t believe it!”

“And that's your first step to becoming an Important Pony,” Fine Crime noted. He was standing atop the cabin, expression grim.

“ _You_!” Upper Crust turned on him angrily. “You’re responsible for all this, you know!”

“But he did help,” Spike pointed out.

“Indeed,” Fancy agreed. “I daresay he gave the two of you the confidence needed to get the job done.”

“Thank you for noticing,” Fine said seriously. “Now, if you’ll all excuse me, I have a certain temptation that must be resolved soon, and a meeting to attend before that.”

“Waitaminute!” Upper Crust reared back on her hind legs. “Where’s the dragon egg?”

Fine Crime’s expression was cold as ice, so harsh Spike felt a chill run down his spine. “I’d suggest checking the museum.” A crimson glow covered his horn, and black smoke began to form around him in swirls.

“Hold it!” Upper Crust cried, but the black clouds covered Fine Crime, and when they dissipated a second later the unicorn was gone.

“Whoa,” Spike muttered. “How’d he do that?”

* * *

Spike had to deal with questions from the authorities involving the accident. He even had a moment to talk to Princess Celestia, who had come down to investigate the crash site. Fancy Pants had insisted on bringing everypony to a fancy dinner, with Upper Crust and Spike as the guests of honor.

Yet despite everything, there was no cheering Upper Crust. She’d lost the dragon’s egg, and her career was ruined. Spike, feeling sympathetic, offered to walk with her back to the museum to break the news to her boss, though by now there was no doubt that everypony already knew.

Which is why they were so shocked to return to find the dragon’s egg sitting in its case as if it had never left.

“Wha-wha- _what_?” Upper Crust ran circles around the display. “B-but it was gone, we both saw it! How? When?!”

“Maybe Fine Crime brought it back after the crash,” Spike ventured, though he doubted it.

“Nonsense! Why would he go through all that trouble to steal something and then put it back?”

“I don’t know,” he admitted, “but this is going to make one heck of a story to tell the ponies back home.”

* * *

High in Canterlot Castle, Princess Luna sat before a table reading a report. Opposite her, face grim as he sipped some hot chocolate, was Fine Crime.

“An invisibility spell,” the Princess noted. “Clever. But do tell us, was crashing the yacht truly necessary?”

“It gave me a chance to put them on the spot,” he declared. “Fancy Pants can afford another one, after all, and Jet Set will be happy for the business.”

A critical look. “And the Gardens?”

He took on a mild grimace. “I had expected him to crash the yacht _outside_ the castle. I do apologize for that, Luna.”

She accepted this response. The princess read for another moment, then dropped the papers onto the table and took a cup of tea. “Thy conclusions?”

He responded with authority. “I believe the candidate isn’t ready for what we have in store, but with a little time that can change. I recommend moving on to finding the next candidate, and letting this one stew for a while.”

“But thou art confident in thine selection?”

He nodded.

There was a long pause as she sipped her tea and considered his words. Finally, the princess answered, “We shall accept thy judgment on this matter, Sir Fine Crime. Thou hast our leave to proceed. We hope the next candidate may be found with equal rapidity.”

“I make no promises,” he replied, standing. “I’ll be sure to let you know when I have something. Oh, and do thank Celestia for me.”

She raised an eyebrow. “For what, pray tell?”

“For agreeing to send the castle’s Pegasi Wing on maneuvers for a few days. The plan wouldn’t have worked otherwise.”

Princess Luna frowned. “Such was a dangerous course of action. Frankly, we are stunned our sister agreed. What if the candidate – or any of the other participants – had not responded accordingly?”

“Celestia didn’t know the plan,” he answered gravely, “but I had alternative options available. Don’t worry, Luna. I’m by no means new to this kind of thing. Now I must beg my leave. I’ve a temptation that’s killing me on the inside, and neither of us want me to succumb to it here.”

She glowered at him, but waved a dismissing hoof. A cloud of black and he was gone.

Luna sipped her tea and spent a few moments scowling at the report on the desk. Not for the first time, she wondered if Celestia’s trust in this ruffian wasn’t misplaced.


	2. The Rolling Stone

It was a dull, overcast day. A bit windy, just a little chilly. The stallion walking along the road thought it all rather annoying; winter had finally ended, and yet the cold weather still refused to leave.

He was a short fellow, white with a blonde mane, wearing a long blue shirt and flat-cap. He was also bored and tired, which made sense as he’d been walking non-stop all morning and afternoon. He really wished he hadn’t forgotten his map in the last town, if only so he could know how far away the next one was! He was so useless without one, having absolutely no talent for navigation.

Yet he at least knew civilization was near, the wooden fence by the road told him as much. The apple orchard, too. More than once he considered nabbing one, but always turned the thought away; he might be a runaway, but he was still above thievery.

After some time he finally had a sign of life: a constant, repeated thwacking sound that he knew couldn’t be natural. He could see there was somepony in the field up ahead. Maybe he could finally gain some directions. Checking to make sure his long shirt covered his cutie mark, he sped up to a optimistic trot.

He didn’t get far before getting a better look at the pony. The sight made him smile for the first time in nearly a week, for it was a mare. No knockout, but not bad on the eyes at all. Perhaps, if he was lucky…

He noted that the mare was bucking the apple trees, which instantly dropped their fruit with each heavy-sounding kick. So she was a farmer. How stupid, _of course_ she was a farmer. Could he not see the massive orchard?

He took a moment to compose himself before leaning against the fence and calling out, “Hey there.”

The mare paused in her kicking to look around. She spotted him and gave a friendly, freckled smile. “Howdy!” Kick, down went the apples, neatly collected in a waiting wagon.

She sure made it look easy. “I’m Nye. You?”

“Applejack.” Another kick, another tree free of apples. “Ya’ll must be new ‘round here.”

“Uh, yeah,” he answered, noting her accent. A southern belle, eh? “New, and a little lost. What’s the next town down that way?” He gestured down the road.

_Whack_ , another apple-free tree. “Yer headin’ ta Ponyville, friend. The Apple Family Orchard marks the outskirts o'the town. Ya’ll keep headin’ that way an' you’ll be there 'n no time!” _Whack_.

He watched her buck a few more trees with genuine interest. “You’re pretty good at that.”

She paused to turn to him. “Pretty good? Ah reckin’ ah’m the best apple-bucker this side o'Canterlot!”

He rubbed his chin. “Apple-bucking. So that’s what they call it.”

She tilted her head with a grin. “Y’all ain’t never been ta a farm before, have ya?”

“City pony,” he confessed, not ashamed. “But I’d like to try. I’m looking for work, after all.”

She raised an eyebrow at him, then cast her gaze upon his hind legs. “Ah dunno, ya'll don’ look like no workhorse. No offense.”

He tried climbing over the fence; he didn’t pull it off with grace. “Hey…err, it’s no problem. Let me try. How hard can it be?” After all, she didn’t seem to have any trouble.

The doubt was plain on Applejack's face, but he had to try. He was at that stage where he’d willingly try just about anything. It was just bucking a tree, right?

He stood before one of the trees, gave her his most confident grin, and kicked with one leg.

A long pause.

Oh boy, not good.

He tried again with both legs, and again. Nothing.

Frustrated, he reared forward and put all his strength into his back legs, striking the tree so hard his hooves hurt.

A lone apple dropped hard on his head, making him wince.

Applejack laughed. Of course.

Nye lowered his head in shame, truly depressed. “I guess I’m no good at apple-bucking either.”

“Don’ sweat it, sugarcube,” she said quickly, patting him on the shoulder. “Ah’ve been doin this mah whole life. Besides, apple-bucking’s not fer everypony.”

He sighed and cast a sad eye at the apple that had fallen on his head. “Yeah…I guess so.” So much for impressing her. Or landing a steady job.

Applejack considered him, growing serious at his brooding manner. “Tell ya what: ah’ve gotta head inta town once ah’m done here. Why don’ ya come with me? Ah can point out a few places that migh' need yer help.”

He raised an eyebrow. "You would do that for somepony you don't even know?"

She nodded with a grin. "Why not?"

He didn't know how to feel about this kind offer. Considering his options for a few seconds, Nye realized that refusing the offer was an unpleasant notion. He wasn't comfortable with accepting it either, but... “It can’t hurt to look."

* * *

Nye had known better than to get his hopes up, and once again his expectations were accurate. He’d tried so many things that afternoon: quill selling to bookkeeping, pet care to gardening, muffins to cupcakes! A disaster, each and every one of them. By dusk he was feeling appropriately worthless and miserable, and Applejack had run out of ideas.

They were sitting by the town fountain, Nye having just gone through a particularly bad episode involving carpentry. “Look, Applejack,” he said, interrupting her attempt at encouragement, “I appreciate you’re trying to help, I really do. But it’s about time we faced facts: I’m just not very good at anything.”

She seemed unusually distraught for somepony who’d only just met him. “It jus don’ make no sense,” she declared. “Surely there’s _somethin_ ' ya can do.”

“There is,” he confirmed with head bowed. “Go to the hotel, sleep away my sorrows, and move on to the next town. As always.”

She raised an eyebrow. “The hotel? How are ya gonna pay fer a room when ya don’ have a job?”

“I’ve got money,” he answered. “Plenty of it. Just no job.”

“Seriously, sugarcube, that don’ make no sense, either. Where’d ya get the money?”

“It doesn’t matter,” he told her. “I don’t need the job for money.”

“Well then, what for?”

Nye leveled a grim, unpleasant look at her. “Self respect.”

Applejack was confused. He didn’t blame her; most ponies found him confusing.

Applejack abruptly facehoofed. “Fer the love of... Why didn’ Ah think of it before? Yer cutie mark! What’s yer special talent? Surely ya have some clue about—”

“No!” He set his haunch down on the fountain’s edge and glared at her. “Anything but that!”

She took a step back at his forcefulness. “What? But why?”

He glowered and looked away. “It’s personal, alright?”

“But yer special talent defines what ya can do,” she declared. “Why wouldn’ ya want ta use it?”

Nye didn’t like where this conversation was going, so he jumped to his hooves and turned to leave. He didn’t know why she’d helped him all this time, but he wanted no more of it. “I’m going to the hotel. Thanks for the—”

He hadn’t noticed that he was walking right into another pony. He crashed into boxes and rolls of fabric and found himself lying on the ground in a daze.

“Whoa, careful there!” Applejack cried, coming to the rescue of whoever he’d just hit. “Rarity! Sorry, he didn’ see ya there.”

Rarity? A friend of hers, he imagined. Hopefully she wasn’t so—

He caught sight of the unicorn and his mind froze; she had to have been one of the most attractive ponies he’d ever seen. Suddenly he was very happy to have met Applejack.

“Greetings!” He was on his hooves in an instant and gathering up boxes. “I’m sorry about this, I really should watch where I’m going sometimes. I’m Nye, friendly wanderer!”

Rarity accepted Applejack’s help. “Oh, it’s no problem, really.” She appeared as apologetic as he felt. “I was just carrying so many supplies. I couldn’t see where I was going.”

“Wow, tha’s a lot of fancy,” Applejack noted, eyeing the ribbons and cloths and rolls of fabric that Nye was frantically trying to gather up. “Back from a Canterlot run, are ya?”

“Indeed I am,” Rarity admitted, lifting various things up with her magic and depositing them into assorted shopping bags. “I just got through with a very large order, but then I received an even bigger order for gala dresses. I simply didn’t have the material, so I spent a couple days in Canterlot. It’s a shame – I would have loved to have stayed there longer – but business is business.”

Nye was so busy cleaning up that he could only half-listen to the conversation, but he heard enough to make his heart sink a little. “So you’re…a dress maker?”

Rarity beamed. “I'm a designer! A fashionista! A very Important Pony, one of the most important in Ponyville!”

“Modest too,” Applejack added in a whisper clearly meant for his ears only.

Well, scratch _her_ off his list of potentials.

He eyed the copious bags of supplies. It really was a big haul. How had she managed to get anywhere carrying it all, even with magic? He wasn’t really in the mood, but he couldn’t ignore a mare in need. “Here, how ‘bout I help you carry some of these to your shop, help lighten the load?”

“Oh, why thank you most sincerely,” Rarity replied in her oh-so-sweet voice. His eyes widened as a disproportionate number of bags floated forwards and dropped onto his back. He strained against the weight as she added, “Such a gentlepony!”

Applejack sighed and rolled her eyes. “Here, let me help too.” She took some of the bags from his back, for which Nye – and his wobbling legs – were very grateful.

“You're both far too kind,” Rarity claimed, trotting happily past them with a lone bag hovering before her.

“Ya get used ta her after a while,” Applejack noted with a grin as she trotted by. “Jus' go with it an nopony gets hurt.”

“Right,” he acknowledged through his teeth.

It wasn’t far to Rarity’s home, though night had fallen by the time they got there. It was a nice place, though he didn’t care for the interior colors. So many pinks and purples! But then, she did seem like the kind of pony to enjoy those colors? He stood by, obediently holding all the bags while Rarity took her precious time putting things away.

“Why don’ Ah help?” Applejack asked, noting Nye’s patient-but-dour expression. “Jus tell me where things go and—”

“NO!”

Rarity blushed and set a dainty hoof to her lips. “Err, no thank you, dear. I’ve got it.”

“But does he?” Applejack asked with a wry smile and a nod towards Nye.

“Meh.” He would have waved a dismissive hoof if he weren’t afraid of tipping over. “Don’t worry about me, I don’t mind.” She raised an eyebrow. “Really.”

Rarity grinned and went back to work. “See? He’s just fine.”

Nye eyed his surroundings with only a half-interest, yet he was still able to make a few observations. “So you live here, Miss Rarity?”

“Why, yes! On the second floor, which is also my workshop.”

“Did you start the business on your own?”

“I certainly did,” she acknowledged. “It was rough going at first, but now I’ve a respected business! I regularly get Canterlot clientele.”

“Yep,” Applejack confirmed. “The whole town’s awful proud of her! A bonafide regular at dress makin’.”

“Well I don’t mean to brag,” Rarity added with a smirk, “but yes, I am. What is it that you do Mr. Nye?”

He frowned and turned his head away. “I’m between jobs at the moment.” Then his eye caught the dress.

It was a lavish thing, a true blue beauty. One of her pieces, no doubt. He’d seen a lot of nice dresses, and he was no expert, but he had to acknowledge that it was a great outfit. Dresses weren’t his area, though. His area was…

His eyes dropped beneath the dress, where sat a quartet of matching blue shoes. He stared at them for a moment, his curiosity piqued. Their design was—

NO.

He jerked his head away and blinked when he found Rarity practically in his face. She jumped back in surprise, the last bag she’d been lifting from him dropping haphazardly to the floor. “Oh, so sorry,” she said with a blush, “but I just noticed you were eyeing one of my designs.”

He swallowed, wishing he'd not been caught. “Yeah,” he muttered turning back to look at the dress and trying to keep his eyes up.

There was a brief pause; he could tell without checking that she was watching him. Waiting for him to cast judgment, no doubt. “It’s…er…lovely.”

“Yes, it is isn’t it?” The disappointment in her voice was like a crack on the head with a hammer.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered. “I’m just a bit distracted.” His eye wandered to the shoes again.

“Oh, that’s alright,” Rarity answered, attempting to sound cheery. “It’s not my best piece, anyway. I’ll be right back, this goes upstairs.”

He watched her go, then caught Applejack’s look. “What?”

She looked back at the dress with a frown. “Ah was gonna ask ya the same thing. It looks like a nice fancy dress ta me. Not my style, of course. What didn’ ya like about it?”

Should he say? No, no he shouldn’t. He turned and approached the dress once more. It really was a beautiful piece of work, something he imagined his mother would have paid top-dollar for, had she still been alive. “It’s nice. Really, it is. I’m just not into that sort of thing.” Curse his eyes, flitting down to those shoes! He could make out certain things so easily, and what he saw was just…

By Celestia, he couldn’t help it! He dropped down and took one of the shoes from the mannequin.

Applejack stepped up beside him. When she spoke she sounded not just a little worried. “Ah’d be careful, Nye. That dress looks awfully expensive an delicate, an Rarity might not like ya handlin' it.”

“I have to take a look.” He turned the shoe around in his hooves with care. He examined the bottom, the sides, the interior, his frown deepening with each inspection.

He didn’t hear Rarity come back down. “What’s going on?” she asked. “Did something happen to the shoe? Oh, _please_ tell me it’s not ruined! That dress ships to Fillydelphia first thing in the morning!” She was looming over his shoulder in an instant.

He raised the shoe so she could see it. “Is this going to be used a lot?”

She blinked. “What? Well, it’s an evening dress. You know, for balls and the like. I imagine the client will want to use it often, yes.”

He rose up and gave her a critical look, still carrying the shoe in one hoof. “You expect a pony to wear this more than once?”

The look of pain on her face actually stung him a bit, but he couldn’t resist; a travesty was enacted here, and he had to speak up. “Judging by the mannequin sizing you’ve arranged, I’d say this shoe is a quarter-size too large. Not enough to be visibly noticeable, but I guarantee a week’s worth of wearing this thing will hurt in the long run.”

She stared at the shoe, then at him. “Oh. I thought you were saying the shoe was ugly.”

“No, it’s beautiful,” he acknowledged. “It’s also going to give your client a lifetime of joint pain. Or at least it would, if it lasts for more than two uses.”

“What?” She was truly perplexed now. “What do you mean?”

He shifted the shoe to display the inside. “There’s no protection! The client’s horseshoes will eat through the insole overnight, the out-sole within three.”

Rarity turned her head up and away. “The client wanted something light and fashionable! It’s the sacrifice one makes for style.”

“Why do they need shoes, anyway?” Applejack cut in. “Ah don’ know any ponies that wear 'em.”

Rarity gave her an appalled look; Nye only stared blandly at her.

“Why, it’s fashion!” Rarity declared. “Obviously shoes aren’t needed for everyday use, but with an ensemble like this, the shoes complete the art. They are essential!”

“Shoes and dresses go together like hay and oats,” Nye added before turning his attention back to Rarity. “Look, I know popular conception. It’s wrong. You can design these things to protect the shoe from the horseshoe: I’ve done it. Best bet is to put a horseshoe inside the shoe itself, with the mid-sole. Metal rings work, too.”

Rarity gained a skeptical frown. “You can do that?” But then she considered the shoe. “I suppose if one made a cutout for the mid-sole…but metal against metal isn’t exactly good health for horseshoes, now is it?”

“That’s why you replace the upper sole with rubber,” he declared. “Softens the blow and provides traction. Loads more comfortable, too.”

She took the shoe from him and studied it. “That…might work.”

“And,” he added smartly, “there’s an alternative design where the horseshoe is exposed and has nails.”

“Nails?”

“Yes.” Nye raised his hoof to show his horseshoe. “Remove the everyday horseshoe, then slip on the one in the shoe. You couldn’t ask for a more perfect fit.” He glanced at his own hoof and added with a frown, “Well, the theory is sound. Never finished the design.”

He felt something shift on his flank, and a chill ran down his spine. He glanced back to see Applejack lifting the bottom half of his long shirt. She was looking right at his cutie mark: a high-heeled shoe and three tacks. He jerked away and glared at her.

“That explains the crazy knowledge ya got,” she declared. “Yer a shoemaker!”

“The term,” Rarity added, still focused on the shoe, “is cobbler.”

Nye continued to glare at Applejack. “Yes, I’m a cobbler.”

“Ah don’ get it,” she admitted. ”What’s so terrible about bein' a cobbler? Ya could help Rarity make shoes if ya'll really wanted a job that badly.”

"You know, I wouldn’t mind that at all!" Rarity shot him a winning smile. "I really like these ideas of yours.”

He turned from them both with a snort. “Yeah, that’s me. Nye Stone, cobbler extraordinaire! Pleasant disgrace.”

“Disgrace?” Applejack asked. “What makes ya a disgrace?”

But Rarity caught on quick. “Nye Stone? As in the Stone family?!” Her interest in the shoe faded quick. “You mean you’re related to Stikin Stone?”

Nye flopped to his haunches and sighed. “Dear old Dad, your reputation precedes me again.”

“ _Dad_?!”

“Hold on, now,” Applejack interrupted. “Ah’m confused. Who’s this Stikin Stone feller?”

“I’d hardly expect you to know,” Rarity noted with an apologetic frown. “He’s an engineer, one of the most influential engineers in Manehattan! The Stone Family is full of very Important Ponies, famed for having excellent builders: architects, engineers, designers, contractors, drafters! And…umm…well…”

Ah, there it was. “That’s right,” Nye threw over his shoulder. “You don’t hear about any _cobblers_ in the Stone Family, do ya? That’s why I’m a disgrace! Not like my brother, apple in Dad’s eye.”

Rarity was standing beside him, her face etched in concern. “You’re the brother that disappeared a year back, aren’t you?”

“I didn’t disappear, I ran away.” He stood and made for the door. “I’m getting out of here. It was nice meeting both of you.”

“What?” Applejack sounded hurt. “But we didn’ mean ta—”

“I know.” He slammed the door behind him.

* * *

Nye had slept hard, and with the morning sun and a little breakfast he was ready to move on to the next town. Hopefully he wouldn’t find any curious ponies there, wherever ‘there’ was.

He took a moment to stare at himself in the mirror. He didn’t look that good. Well, he certainly felt miserable. Why should he look any different? He kept thinking about his conversation the night before with Rarity and Applejack. If he’d just ignored the bucking shoe and its obvious flaws they never would have found out! He cursed his cutie mark for the thousandth time since the exchange, taking extra care to ensure his shirt covered it as much as possible when he left the hotel room. He didn’t want anything to do with Ponyville, not anymore. He’d rather just slip out, unnoticed and invisible. As always.

Which was why he was so distraught when he opened the hotel’s front door and found a pair of mares waiting for him.

“Oh, no,” he muttered, glaring at Rarity and Applejack. “Not you two.”

They gave one another sad glances, then Applejack removed her hat. “Listen, sugarcube. We wanted ta apologize fer last night.”

“Indeed,” Rarity added. “We had no idea we were broaching such a personal subject.”

He brushed past them, not caring that he was being rude. “Well, you did. Now you know, so I gotta go.”

To his irritation, the two mares began to walk along with him. “But why?” Applejack asked. "There are still dozens of jobs fer ya ta try out. We barely scratched the surface yesterday.”

“And we promise not to tell anypony about your background,” Rarity offered with a hopeful smile.

He turned to stand in front of them. He gazed at each mare one at a time, anger bubbling within him. “Why are either of you bothering with this? You don’t know me. I’m just a jerk of a stranger passing through on his way to his next set of failures. I mean, how long were you waiting at the door for me to come out?! I’m not asking for help. I’m asking to be forgotten.”

This time when the two exchanged glances, there was a certain unpleasantness to their expressions. Applejack took a firm step so that she was right in his face. “Listen, we’re tryin’ ta be friendly an’ help ya out! Fer some ponies, bein’ nice is only natural.”

“That’s right,” Rarity chided. “We are trying to help, and you respond with rudeness! It’s obvious you’re down on your luck. We only wanted to let you know that we can keep your secret.”

Applejack walked around him, head held high. “If ya wanna go, nopony’s gonna stop ya. But if ya wanna stay, that’s an option too.”

Rarity tossed her mane such that it smacked him in the muzzle before following her friend. “We’re sorry if our sincere concern offends you so much. Next time we’ll keep our apologies to ourselves.”

He stared after them, truly perplexed. All those niceties the night before, and now…well, now he felt like crap. For a moment he considered letting them go. After all, why should this bother him? And yet there was just something…

“Wait.” He followed after them. “Please, wait.” They turned back, and he lowered his head at their piercing glares. “I’m sorry. I guess I really was a little bit of a jerk.”

They raised their eyebrows in unison.

“Okay, maybe not a little.” He blushed, trying to think of what he was trying to say. “It’s just… I mean… I’m not used to ponies being nice to me. It’s been so long, I sorta forgot what it was like.” He glanced away in shame. “It’s the thing about being the black sheep in the family; nopony likes you, so you stop liking everpony else.”

They considered him for several seconds, making him feel more and more like a bug. At last, Rarity spoke: “Darling, you’re much too hard on yourself. I’m sure there are plenty of ponies who would like you, you just need to stick around long enough for them to get to know you.”

“Yeah,” Applejack agreed, that friendly smile popping back onto her face with enviable ease. “Find yerself a job, stick around fer a while. Ya might jus’ find that ya belong in Ponyville. Lots of ponies do, just ask our friend Twilight.”

He glanced around at the quite town. “Well, I suppose I could give it another try. You really promise not to tell anypony about my family?”

They raised their hooves in unison. Applejack added, “An' we promise not ta bring the subject up again.”

Rarity concluded, “Or to suggest you be a cobbler.”

He considered them, their promise and the situation, then smiled. “Y'know, I could get used to ponies being nice to me. Alright, girls, fine. In the name of good relations between myself and the rest of ponydom, I’ll give Ponyville another try.”

“Glad ta hear it,” Applejack declared. “You just wait, Ah’m sure y’all find somethin ya can do here!”

He shook his head, still smiling. “I won’t be getting my hopes up – never do – but maybe I will. And, uh…thanks. You know, for coming by and all. It means more than I would have thought.”

“But of course, darling,” Rarity answered with head held high. “What are friends for?”

He blinked and stared at her. “Friend?”

Applejack nodded and set a hoof to his shoulder. “Yeah, friend.”

He stared at her hoof, then at the two ponies.

Friends.

Huh.

* * *

Nighttime in Ponyville, and Nye was on his way back to his apartment. He’d been here three weeks, a significant new record. Every day, he woke up in the morning and found himself actually happy to greet the day. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt so…good. He’d made new friends, finally got a job at the local railroad station as a ticketmaster, and even found his own place to live. Two months ago, if somepony had said he’d be settling down in a place like this he’d have bucked them in the teeth!

Friends. It still seemed such an odd concept for him. Applejack and Rarity had introduced him to a few ponies, and within days he’d been amazed to find himself entering a circle of friends. He especially got along well with the local pegasus, Rainbow Dash, with whom he shared a penchant for naps and general laziness.

He trotted along the path to his apartment, taking in the novelty of realizing that a path could become familiar, when he spotted the shared mailbox of his apartment. He never checked his mail. Nopony outside of Ponyville knew where he lived, so why would anypony send him a letter? Which is why he had to pause and take another look when he noticed that the door to his own box had been opened.

He considered moving on; it was probably some sort of mistake. Curiosity got the better of him though, and he reached in to find a single letter. The handwriting was neat and elegant, and it was definitely addressed to him. Who could possibly…? He used his teeth to rip open the envelope.

He didn’t need to read beyond the first two lines to know what he was looking at. There, nestled at the bottom of the letter, was a shiny gold ticket. The sight of it made his heart sink.

“Well, what have you got there?”

Nye nearly flew out of his horseshoes! He landed and jerked about to find a mottled-brown unicorn with a black mane standing right behind him. The unicorn eyed the ticket with interest. “That’s a ticket to the Grand Galloping Gala!”

Nye clutched the ticket for a moment, eyeing the stranger. “Yeeeesssss… Who are you?”

“A local.”

“A local?” he repeated, glancing around as if expecting to see the pony’s house nearby. “I haven’t seen you in this part of town. Where do you live?”

“Around.”

“Around.” Nye wasn’t sure he liked the way this pony was responding. “Can I help you with something?”

“Oh, not at all,” the unicorn answered with a pleasant smile. “I just noticed your ticket and had to offer my most heartfelt congratulations.”

Screw that. “You want it? I sure don’t.”

“But whatever do you mean?” The unicorn's eyebrows rose. “That’s a ticket to the Grand Galloping Gala. Do you have any idea what some ponies would give to get one? Those invitations come from Princess Celestia herself. You don’t reject an invitation from a Princess.”

“I’d sure like to,” Nye growled.

The unicorn shook his head. “I'm confused: why wouldn’t you want to go to the Gala? I was under the impression that most ponies _dream_ of getting an invitation.”

Nye chose to ignore the question. “I’ve got a dream come true right here. Sure you don’t want it? It’s going in the trash, otherwise.”

“Oh, no, no, no. Not me,” the stranger replied with a wave of his hoof. “I’m not _near_ important enough for such a grand occasion. You, on the other hoof, must be a very Important Pony to somepony out there. You should go!”

Nye scowled and turned to head for his apartment, not bothering to say goodbye.

“Well, if you’re certain,” the unicorn called at his back. “Why not offer it to one of your friends? Surely there’s a mare out there who’d love to take that off your hooves.”

“What I choose to do with it is my own—” Nye turned around and went silent; the unicorn was gone. He looked down the road and all around the immediate area, but there was no sign of the stranger.

He couldn’t explain why, but he suddenly felt very nervous. Almost…scared. He slipped into his apartment and was sure to lock the door. He went to toss the ticket in the garbage, but paused to stare at it.

You know, that creepy unicorn was right. Surely somepony out there would like to have this ticket. Rarity would be the natural choice, she just seemed like the type to appreciate it the most. But when he really thought about it, he felt that he should offer it to Rainbow. He felt closer to her, after all.

Would she qualify as a best friend?

What a wholly novel concept.

* * *

Curse that Twilight Sparkle! She just _had_ to be friends with all the best mares in Ponyville, and her royal connections got tickets for _all_ of them! There he was with what could only be the single best gift a mare could ask for, and _another mare_ had beaten him to it. Insufferable!

Yet that hadn’t been the greatest blow, oh no; after he found that he couldn’t give the ticket away to his preferred ponies, they all promptly ganged up on him and insisted he go to the Gala. He tried to make it clear that he didn’t want to go, that he had very serious personal reasons for skipping out. But no, they pressed him.

So here he was, standing next to a window watching a bunch of posh ponies congratulate themselves for being rich. He was even wearing a nice tux, which Rarity had made for him as part of the trap.

So curse that Twilight Sparkle.

Curse the Grand Galloping Gala.

And curse himself for being unable to say no to a pretty face. Several pretty faces. Why did he have to have a weakness for mares?

Nye _hated_ the Gala. He’d only been once before, when his family had been invited a few years ago. It had been humiliating – for himself and his family – and he had sworn never to go again. Let his father and brother indulge in the family glory.

Which was exactly what they were doing. Nye had spent much of the night carefully dodging his remaining two living relatives, making absolutely certain they never saw him.

Had they been the ones to arrange the ticket for him? Had they somehow learned that he was living in Ponyville? The thought had kept him awake a few nights since he’d received the invitation. He’d even seriously considered leaving Ponyville entirely, but couldn’t. He’d finally found someplace he liked. And friends.

He just couldn’t leave.

But he could dodge, and dodge he did. He might have spent time with his friends, but they all seemed to have their own agendas. Something about ‘the best night ever.’ Right. Not for him.

The Gala was well under way and he was growing more and more tired of the entire charade. He certainly wasn’t bored, what with keeping away from his father and brother. Still, he could use a little boredom at the moment; he could only avoid them for so long.

Finally too frustrated to want to continue, Nye waited until the servants weren’t paying attention and slipped through a hallway and up some stairs. He went to the first door he found and entered a darkened room. he relaxed, at last confident that he wouldn’t be found.

He realized he was in some sort of large balcony room overlooking the central ballroom. It was well decorated; perhaps it had been planned to be part of the celebrations? It clearly hadn't been included for the evening, though. He went to the balcony to stare down at the elite ponies, glad to be away. He eyed his father and brother, looking so proud of themselves it made him feel sick. There was Rainbow Dash amongst her heroes, the Wonderbolts. Curious, she didn’t seem all that thrilled.

And there was Twilight Sparkle, in position beside the great and glorious Princess Celestia. Even in his displeasure, Nye couldn’t help but stare at the Princess and feel warmth. There could be no faulting her for any of this, of course. How in her own name had his father convinced her to send him an invitation? Or his brother, perhaps?

He heard the sound of hoofsteps behind him, and jerked about quickly. His heart skipped a beat; if he wasn’t supposed to be here – and there was nothing to say he was – he might be in trouble. What a disaster for his friends _that_ would be!

For a moment he saw nothing. Perhaps he was hearing things. But then he saw it; a tall pony hidden in the shadows. He could see the wings by the outline. So it was a pegasus. An unusually tall pega…no. No, that wasn’t a pegasus.

It was an alicorn.

Before his heart had skipped a beat. Now it all but stopped entirely. The alicorn came into the light from the ballroom and revealed herself to be the one and only Princess Luna.

He dropped into a bow as fast as possible, which was good because he suspected his knees would have given out otherwise. “P-Princess! Please forgive this intrusion!”

When the Princess spoke, it was in a strained voice. “Thou art forgiven, my loyal subject.” She sounded as if she were struggling to shout and keep her voice down at the same time. “Though I am obliged to ask why thou hast come to this place so hidden from the night’s festivities.”

Oh boy. Could he lie to Night Mare Moon? Well, she wasn’t Night Mare Moon anymore, was she? But still a Princess. Could he lie to a Princess? A truly magnificent Princess, he added to himself upon glancing up at her. Indeed, he dared to think she put Princess Celestia to shame.

Idiot! The Princess of the Night was waiting for an answer!

“I…” he paused to consider his words. He could think of nothing save the truth. So, hesitantly, “I was looking to get away from…the Gala.”

The Princess tilted her head at him. “Doth noth my sister’s celebration please thee?”

He leapt up. “It’s a great party! Wonderful, really!” Oh, what was he saying? “It's just…I’m not a big party pony.”

The Princess, tall and regal, stepped past him to the balcony and gazed down at the partygoers. “We understand.”

He stared at the back of her head – a moment to observe that delightful mane! – and was perplexed. Wasn’t she going to send him away, or something of that sort? He glanced around at the darkened room, questions floating through his head. Should he ask? Was it appropriate?

“W-why…?” She didn’t look back, but there was a slight motion to her head that told him she was paying attention. He swallowed for courage. “I-if you don’t mind my asking, why…umm…why are you here and not down there?”

It seemed at first as though she wouldn’t answer. He was just preparing to slink back to the Gala, feeling like some sort of criminal, when she spoke. “Our sister proffered to make this our chance to revisit a life in view of the public. For a year we have been adjusting, re-accustoming ourselves to our old duties. Yet we feel that this occasion is not appropriate for a public return.”

For a princess, she was being strangely open. With how much he always tried to hide, and knowing her past as everypony did, the difference was strangely humbling.

Feeling brave, he walked up beside the Princess and stared down at the guests, all oblivious to their gaze. “My brother and father are down there,” he admitted after a few seconds of tense silence. “Truthfully, Princess, it is them I’m avoiding, not the Gala.”

He could feel her eyes on him. It made him not just a little nervous. “Thou fearest a reunion.” Again with that strange tone.

He looked up at her, noting how she was taller than him by a significant margin. Every second had him feeling more brave about this conversation. Perhaps it was how open she was being, though she still held that regal air that kept him on edge. “Princess, if I may ask, why are you speaking with such a…tone?”

To his surprise, the Princess actually blushed. “We are attempting to follow tradition and discretion in equal measure. Tradition demands a set tone and volume, but discretion demands _restraint_.”

“Oh.” That sounded annoying. “You could just follow discretion? For the moment?” She gave him an imperial look, which he countered with a weak smile. “I won’t tell if you won’t. Promise.”

Her royal veneer cracked with the slightest glimmer of a smile. “We shall…try. What is thy name, subject?”

He frowned and glanced away, forcing an honest answer to his lips. “Nye. Nye Stone.”

He waited for her reaction. There wasn’t one. When he looked at her again, she was gazing down at the crowd once more.

He felt foolish; of course she wouldn’t know about the Stone Family legacy. How could she, having been out of touch for a thousand years?

When she spoke again, her tone was commanding. “Speak not of this chance encounter to anypony, Sir Stone. Our return to public life must arise in our own manner and time.”

He winced. “Please, Princess, Nye only.” He turned to her and tried once again to form a smile. “I’d rather keep my family name a secret. Past regrets and all.”

“It would seem then that silence shall be beneficial to us all.”

Well, that had been easy. He found he rather liked this princess. Granted, he’d never personally met any other princess, but still. Perhaps it was time he made himself scarce. There was still the Gardens, where Fluttershy had gone. Perhaps he could stay there; avoid the Gala and his kin and be out of the Princess’ way.

And yet… He stared at Princess Luna. Her gaze was upon the crowd below, eyes slowly shifting from face to face. There was an inescapable sadness in her manner, as if she were still dealing with things beyond his comprehension. Things involving Night Mare Moon. Things involving her job.

Things involving Princess Celestia?

He realized how lonely she must be. Perhaps she dearly wanted to be part of society. A princess who wasn’t loved by her subjects? What must it be like to fear the public eye, and yet so desperately want to have it? He knew. He’d been there. He’d not been exiled for a thousand years, but he knew exactly what it felt like to be ostracized.

He thought back on what he’d earned in the past few months: a home to belong to, something to do. Friends. It had felt so special to have friends for once. It still did.

“Princess? How would you like to make a long-distance friend?”

She blinked, slowly turning her puzzled face to stare at him. She held his gaze for several seconds, seeming lost in her own thoughts.

And then she smiled. Beautifully.

Maybe having a weakness for mares wasn’t such a bad thing, after all.

* * *

Luna remained in the dark after he’d left, pondering this recent turn of events. She didn’t have long to think about it, though; there was another who had her attention.

“Dost thou presume to spy upon thy Princess?”

A shift in the light, ever so faint, and the unicorn appeared in a corner nearby, as if hidden by a mirage.

“Hide from the mistress of all night?” Fine Crime asked. “Preposterous. But spying on a candidate? That’s another matter, entirely.”

She cast a stately glance his way, but there was no hiding her surprise. “Candidate? Him?”

“Yes.” Fine approached the balcony. “His meeting with you was entirely unplanned, mind. But now that you’ve met him, what do you think?”

“He strikes an impression of one conflicted with inner turmoil.”

The unicorn chuckled. “Aren’t we all?”

She cast a stern gaze upon him. “We doubt it safe that thou art here amongst all these ponies.”

“You and me both,” he acknowledged, gazing down at the crowds below with a solemn frown. “You can relax. I won’t be having any visions tonight. Besides, I’ll be spending the majority of this night in the Garden. Observing.”

She kept her gaze locked on him. “Pray tell, observing what?”

He smiled in a slow manner that disturbed her. “Only the single prettiest pony I have ever laid eyes on.”

He caught her glance and coughed in a self-conscious manner. “What? I said I won’t have a vision. Even if I did, I would hold myself back. I wouldn’t _dare_ touch an Element-Bearer, which is what she is. Kindness, if I recall correctly.”

Luna was appalled. “Claimest thou to be targeting the bearers of the Elements of Harmony for thy—”

“I said no,” Fine snapped. “I’ve lived with this curse half my life, Luna. I think I would know how to keep it in check, or at the very least when to find a suitable location before it takes over. A little _trust_ would be appreciated in this relationship.”

She locked him with an icy glare. “This is no relationship. Thou art a subject of the realm and in our service. At Celestia’s behest we accepted thy management of this duty, and with no small amount of reservation.”

“And I’m certain Celestia informed you of my years of loyal service and near-perfect track record,” he countered coolly. “She accepted me being a Bloodmane all those years. She defined the rules, and I’ve stuck with them to the letter. In return, she never questioned my methods.”

“Well _we_ do.”

Fine glowered as he considered her statement. “Then I suppose now’s a bad time to inform you that I had somepony break into the public relations office and forge Mr. Stone’s invitation letter and ticket?”

“What?” Luna cast a surprised glance down into the ballroom, but could not find Nye in the crowd. “Why wouldst thou do such a thing?”

“I wanted to see how he would respond,” Fine answered. “To see how he’d react when his new friends pushed him to come. To watch how he’d handle being at the same party as his estranged family. Most importantly, to see if his terrible fear of having his new home discovered would outweigh his fear of losing his new friends and home.”

She set a hoof to her lips and studied him. “And?”

Fine’s expression was firm. “He succumbed to his friends’ desires over his own. A point in his favor. He also has so far successfully evaded his family, though I cannot say as of yet whether this is a good thing or not. Most importantly, he did not flee Ponyville. Great marks there. Of course, there was an unexpected element; he met you. Did he flee in terror?”

The princess shifted, blushing. “No.”

“No.” He nodded with a grin. “No, he didn’t. In fact, he’s actively trying to help you by befriending you. That, Princess, is what you call ‘bonus points’.

“So you see, I’m performing my investigation. I’m doing as you asked and gathering the information. Three candidates have been found. One is clearly suitable to the task, while one requires a bit more experience.”

She eyed him. “Thou spoke not of a third candidate before.”

“That’s because I need to keep an eye on him for a bit longer,” Fine answered. “I’m still not convinced that he has all the qualifications. You’ll know when I know.”

Luna considered his words for a long time before finally responding. “We see that thou art indeed making progress. A thousand years past, thy methods would be questionable, but we cannot argue that they are ineffective. Yet thou art still a Bloodmane, Sir Fine Crime, and that is something we are having a very difficult time reconciling.”

“I understand perfectly,” he said with complete seriousness. “I find it hard to accept, myself.”

For some unfathomable reason, she approved of that answer. “Very well, Sir Fine Crime. We will cease questioning thy methods…openly. But be warned, do not make us regret granting thee such responsibility. Now please, leave us to our thoughts.”

He nodded and made for the shadows. “One more thing, Luna. I understand that you doubt me. In your horseshoes, I would doubt me, too. But please know this: I served your sister devotedly for years. Since your return and assumption of the royal duties, my devotion has been set upon you.

“I do not take my duties lightly. You may yet live for another thousand years, and you will be hard-pressed to find another pony so determinedly loyal as I. My life for yours, Luna. Remember that when you begin to suspect where my interests lie.

“And if you doubt that,” he concluded, dark clouds beginning to form around him, “I suggest you ask your sister about my dragon record.”

He was gone.

She stared at the place he’d occupied just a moment ago, brooding over his words as the night wore on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nye earns special privileges this night. His relationship with Luna becomes a major but largely unnoticed factor for a while, but when Book IV comes around _nothing_ will be more important.
> 
> This chapter takes the next step towards darkness by showing that not all families in Equestria are happy ones. Seems like such a small thing, doesn't it? No worries, it's just one more step in the slow descent. We're not done with Nye's past, not by a long shot.
> 
> This chapter makes me feel a little anxious. I've recently started making some modifications to how I handled AJ's accent, but I'm not sure if I ever made those fixes here and I don't have time to go back and check.
> 
> **Character Detail: Nye Stone**  
>  Species: Earth Pony  
> Coat: White  
> Mane: Aureolin Yellow  
> Eyes: Sepia Brown  
> Ages: 20 (upon first appearance), 23 (by end of Book I)  
> Cutie Mark: Red high heel overlaid by three tacks  
> Special Talent: Cobbling
> 
> The first of my three OCs to star in the No Heroes series, Nye is easily identified as the oddball of the group. At first glance he doesn't appear to bring much to the team; he's not athletic, doesn't seem to bright and can be a touch selfish. Some have even accused him of being very 2-dimensional. But no pony gets more attention in this story than Nye, partially because I found him so easy to write for, and as time goes on he gradually comes to show that he's more than just a charismatic tail chaser.

**Author's Note:**

> Bear with me, I'm still figuring out how this site works.
> 
> This story is currently being edited with the help of FIMFiction user Hopeless Appraisal.
> 
> The first chapter of my 4-part series, No Heroes. The series touches upon a large variety of genres, including everything from creepypasta to romance. For this book, though, it's largely about introducing the six main characters – thee OCs, a background pony and two side-characters.
> 
> A dominant theme of this particular story is a gradual descent into the 'other side' of Equestria. With this first chapter, we see Equestria as we know it from the show: pristine, peaceful, and generally pleasant. With every chapter, we will gradually see more and more of the darker parts of Equestrian life, with Chapter 6 being the darkest depths of the story.
> 
> Another major theme for the series as a whole is the fundamental differences (in my mind) between Celestia and Luna; how they are perceived by the public, how they go about their individual methods of rule and – perhaps most importantly – their very different views of the world. Many of these differences aren't stated directly; you just have to pay attention to the world I offer. Case in point: oaths. Pay attention to whether ponies call upon Celestia's or Luna's name; it depicts things about that pony. At some point in the series some ponies may even switch to a different name, which is _not_ insignificant.
> 
> You'll find I do this often: pepper clues throughout my stories. Is there something you don't understand? _Read carefully_ , because odds are high I dropped a hint somewhere about it. Things that seem small can have a large importance down the line. One of my long-term goals is to help readers become _better_ readers, and I do that by sprinkling a small point here, a tiny clue there, things that provide some background info if one can notice them and think on it. Sometimes this can lead to misinterpretation, and sometimes people notice things I don't intend, but that is by no means a bad thing. And now for something I like to do on occasion:
> 
> **Character Detail: Upper Crust**  
>  Aliases: Crustie, Uppity  
> Species: Unicorn  
> Coat: Olive Yellow  
> Mane: Light Persian Blue with White Streaks  
> Eyes: Dark Persian Blue  
> Magic Aura: Green  
> Age: 24 (at first appearance), 27 (at end of Book I)  
> Cutie Mark: Antique Goblet with Drafting Lines  
> Special Talent: Estimation
> 
> Upper Crust struck me as the perfect character for Luna's new team; even by the show's standards, she appears to be totally useless. Turning Upper Crust from the unpleasant snob she is in the show to a likeable character was also viewed by me as a personal challenge. Upper Crust easily became one of my two favorite characters in this story for falling so far and then rising so high. No character in No Heroes has more positive character development – taking place over so long a period of time – as her. By the end of Book I, her part will seem so very small and uninteresting. By the end of Book IV, you won't even recognize her anymore.
> 
> When I first started writing No Heroes, very little was known about Upper Crust. She had no official cutie mark or special talent (something Hasbro has corrected in the last year or so), so I was forced to come up with my own. I chose estimation because on the surface it appears rather useless from a productive standpoint... but when applied with some creativity it can have _huge_ potential, which accurately reflects Upper Crust herself.


End file.
